He Who Stares Long
by Locutus-of-Borg
Summary: Rated T for now for coarse language, rating my change with future chapters. A down on his luck Captain and an antique ship are sent to the Federation's backwaters to root out a small scale smuggling operation. But nothing is as it seems...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Trek Universe utilized by my characters, that honor belongs to Paramount. This is not a commercial enterprise (no pun intended) and I'm not making any money off this. Please don't sue.

"Again, how did you break your hand?"

"I told you."

"Tell me again, I want to make sure I heard you correctly."

"I put my fist through the desk when I received our latest orders."

"Mhm." The doctor nodded.

"Damn it! Don't look at me like that Steve! Do you know where they're sending us? Sector 617! To interdict some local piracy and smuggling operation."

"That sounds like a worthwhile cause. Isn't that why you joined Starfleet, Hugh? To serve the greater good?"

Hugh laughed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, to boldly go my ass. I'm on some admiral's shit list, and I don't even know who wrote it or why I'm on it."

"Wasn't that girl you met on Risa the daughter of Admiral Planchette?"

"Which girl? I vaguely recall there being several women, a couple Orion women, some Andorians, even I Vulcan I think. Ah, that was one hell of a shore leave."

"Speaking of shore leave, your tests came back negative. You dodged a bullet, but sooner or later..."

"Yeah, yeah."

There was a short, uncomfortable silence while Hugh reminisced about his shore leave.

The doctor coughed, bringing Hugh out of his daydream. "So, why don't you want to go to Sector 617? It seems to be rather simple."

"Hunh. Sure, it's simple. But it would be a hell of a lot easier if I had a ship that wasn't due to be scrapped 50 years ago, weapons that functioned more then half the time, and a crew that hasn't spent more time in New Zealand then on active duty."

"It could be worse."

"Yeah, you're right, the warp core could explode and kill us all. But at least it would be instantaneous! And the crew! They're on the verge of mutiny, I can feel it. I already confiscated 100 liters of real alcohol, and if what's left gets amongst the crew, we're done for." Hugh dropped his voice and leaned closer. "I don't know how far I can trust some of the junior officers, or senior ones for that matter. It's a ship full of strangers, Steve. How the hell am I supposed to turn this mob into a crew? We didn't even get a proper shakedown. Engineering is ready to crack under the workload, as everything that can break is, often in the most catastrophic way possible. And Security? Hell, I think they're responsible for most of the trouble they're supposed to prevent."

Hugh closed his eyes and leaned back.

"I can't say I envy you, Hugh, because I don't. But please don't stir the hornet's nest until we can pick up some proper medical personnel, the ones I have now, well, I don't think they passed the first aid course."

"I'm sorry Steve. I shouldn't have dragged you into this. I...I just needed someone I knew and could trust."

"Don't apologize. You saved me from a fate worse then death. They were going to put me behind a desk."

Hugh opened his eyes and smiled. The comm interrupted as he opened his mouth to reply.

"Captain, to the Bridge. Priority message from Starfleet."

Hugh sighed as he stood. "Bridge, I'm on my way." He looked at Steve and shrugged. "I really don't see how my day can get worse, but somehow, I think it will."

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The corridors were deserted as Hugh Lyndan, Captain of the _USS Hornet_, made his way to the bridge. His hand ached despite the painkillers he had received, and a feeling of impending doom swept through him when he thought of the priority message which awaited him. He paused at the turbolift doors, reached out and stroked the wall.

"You're a good ship. You deserved a better fate then this, stuck off in some god-forsaken backwater. They should have let you die when your time came."

Upon assuming command, Lyndan had done his research on his new home. She had served long and proud as a science vessel scouting the then unknown sectors near the Romulan and Klingon Neutral Zones before being put into mothballs. When the newer Nebula's had come online, the Hornet had been scheduled to be decommissioned and scrapped. But the Cardassian Wars had flared up, and since the _Hornet_ was already active, albeit on the way to the scrapyard, Starfleet had pressed her into service as a supply ship. A sneak attack at Minas Korva left the _Hornet_ a wreck, but the demand for ships was so high she was patched up and sent back. And the _Hornet_ met a similar fate in the Betloti Sector. And again in the Setlik System, and the Dorvan System. Four times was the _Hornet_ presumed lost, and four times Starfleet engineers performed the miracle of resurrection. After the fourth time, Starfleet command realized the _Hornet_ was held together by spit and duct tape, and relegated her to the ignomious role of supply shuttle at Alpha Centauri. Consequently, when Lyndan took command, the _Hornet_ had no functional torpedo tubes, phaser arrays which were more dangerous to them then anyone they could hope to hit with the woefully obsolete targeting systems, and an artificial gravity system which had the unfortunate habit of hiccuping, though on a regular enough schedule precautions could usually be taken.

The doors opened as Lyndan stepped onto the bridge.

"I'll take it in my ready room, Commander."

Cmdr. Greene nodded, and signaled the communications officer.

As the doors to the ready room closed behind him, Lyndan sighed as he prepared himself to deal with the ever pleasant Admiral Gregory. When the face of Rear Admiral T'Prau appeared, Lyndan let out a sigh of relief.

"A pleasure to see you too, Captain. May I inquire as to the delay? I believe I coded for a priority message."

"I'm very happy to see you Admiral. I am sorry about the delay," Lyndan held up his hand. "but we've been having some issues with the artificial gravity."

"I am sorry to hear that. Add it to your list of complaints for Starbase 653 to fix."

"Admiral, we're no where near Starbase 653. At the moment, we're limited to Warp 5."

"Then you had better adjust your course sooner rather then later. You will receive further instructions upon your arrival."

With that, the Admiral signed off. Lyndan leaned back and contemplated the darkened screen. The Admiral had said Starbase 653 would repair the _Hornet_, which was good, but that he'd also be receiving new orders in person, which was bad. He rose and made his way to the bridge, giving the order to change heading at maximum warp.

_At least I have a week to ponder my fate_ Lyndan thought as he made his way to his quarters.

----------------

Two days later the _Hornet_ arrived at Starbase 653. Engineering had managed to coax warp 8 out of the engines for a day and a half.

_Damn them and their technical wizardry_ Lyndan thought as he made his way through the docking arm to the station proper. He'd been looking forward to several days of relaxation, but it was not to be. _I can't be too mad at them though, they did work a miracle getting the engines above Warp 5. I just wish they could have done it without flooding the engineering section with radiation. Cleanup is going to cost us any time saved in transit._ _And the paperwork involved!_

Lost in thought, Lyndan failed to notice the security detail awaiting him at the end of the docking arm.

"Captain Lyndan?" The officer asked the question as a mere formality. "The Admiral would like to see you, now."

Lyndan looked around, noticed that aside from the security team and himself, the docking arm and reception area was empty. He turned to the officer and opened his mouth.

"It's cleared so there are no witnesses for this meeting sir. The Admirals orders." The officer interrupted. "This way."

He turned on his heel as the rest of the team flanked Lyndan, giving him no choice in the matter but to follow.

They proceeded down deserted hallways, deeper and deeper into the bowels of the station. Lyndan began to worry, as the team refused to answer his questions, or even talk to him. Finally, they arrived at an unmarked door, which the security team paused outside. Lyndan was thoroughly lost as all doors and bulkheads along their route had any identifying marks removed. Lyndan took a deep breath and walked up to the door. When it opened, the room was pitch black. One of the guards pushed him through the door, which sealed instantly and silently behind him.

"What the hell..."

A bright spotlight illuminated a spot in front of Lyndan.

"Advance into the light." a disembodied voice ordered. "Now!" it exclaimed when Lyndan failed to advance.

"Who the fuck are you? What the hell is going on?"

"Just step into the light you stubborn jackass."

Reluctantly, Lyndan stepped into the light.

"Captain Hugh Lyndan, of the _USS Hornet_, do you know why you are here?"

"Because Admiral T'Prau ordered me to Starbase 653, and a team of security guard dogs escorted me here."

"Do you know the _reason_ why you are here?"

"That depends, does the brass ever really have a reason for what they do, besides the fact they take pleasure in screwing me?"

Lyndan was pleased to hear an exasperated sigh come from the darkness. Suddenly the spotlight went off, plunging him into darkness once more.

"Now wh..."

The room lights came on, and Lyndan was surprised to find himself in a small circular room, roughly 5 meters in diameter. The only furniture was a small table before him, behind which sat Admirals T'Prau and Planchette.

"Nice theatrics. What the hell is going on?" Lyndan demanded.

Admiral Planchette laughed. "You're right about one thing, Lyndan, I do like screwing with you."

"I failed to see the need for such a dramatic entrance, but the Admiral was quite insistent." Admiral T'Prau added.

Admiral Planchette's face grew serious. "There is a good reason why you're here. The _Hornet_ is in no condition to tackle a shuttlecraft, much less pirates. She's going to receive a complete overhaul. You're going to Sector 617, but not for the reasons you think. Yes, there is a smuggling operation and some small scale pirates. That's your cover story. But it's who we think they're in league with that has us worried."

Admiral T'Prau leaned forward. "Captain, you realize what we are about to tell you is Top Secret. You and you alone are to know what is going on. It is the only way to ensure security is not compromised on your mission. If knowledge of your actual mission was to fall into the wrong hands, the results for you and your ship would be fatal."

"We believe Fleet Admiral Bower is in league with the Orion Syndicate, and is protecting their operations in his domain. Sector 617 borders Bower's area of command, but does not fall under it. He knows you'll be there, but only as a picket. He will rightfully conclude you are not a threat to his operations. Materially, he is correct. You're no match for a pirate fleet, or even some of their ships. Which is why you'll be equipped with sensitive sensors and other intelligence gathering devices. Your armament will also be expanded, just in case. But your primary mission is to find any evidence linking Admiral Bower to the Orion Syndicate."

"Or evidence exonerating him from involvement." Admiral T'Prau interjected.

"Yes, or that. Anyhow, it'll be several weeks before your ship is ready, so I suggest you spend your time whipping your crew into shape. They need it. You and your crew are restricted to the top six decks, where you'll find everything you need. I just had the holodecks upgraded, I suggest you make good use of them."

With that, The admirals got up and left through the door, leaving a shocked and concerned Captain Lyndan behind them.

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A/N - Reviews are more then welcome, the second chaper is ready to go if anyone is interested.


	2. Chapter 2

"Helm, ahead one-quarter impulse."

"Aye Aye, sir. Ahead one-quarter impulse."

"Take us in helm, nice and easy."

The _Hornet_ slowly entered the gaping maw of Starbase 653's docking bay. Dwarfed by the large ships on either side, which in turn looked like child's toys compared to the docking bay, the _Hornet_ seemed woefully out of place. Especially when she drifted off course, rammed the _Crimea_ and deflected into the observers gallery of the starbase, opening six decks to hard vacuum.

"God damn it! Computer, pause!" The scene of carnage on the viewscreen froze as everyone looked hesitantly at the captain. The veins on his forehead and neck stood out prominently, and the bridge crew could practically hear his teeth grinding.

"Helm," Lyndan's voice was low and calm, alerting everyone to the fact he was beyond pissed. "What went wrong?"

"I, uh, I, I don't know, sir." the helmsman sat at his station, not daring to make eye contact.

"Ok. Does anyone know what went wrong? Anyone at all?"

Silence.

The captain let out a deep breath. "Right. Ensign, you selected the starboard thrust controls over the port thrust controls. Computer, reset simulation. Ensign, walk with me. Ensign Ricky, take a turn at the helm."

With that, the captain walked off the bridge into his simulated ready room, not bothering to check that the ensign was behind him.

"Ensign Tizeeh."

Tizeeh stood inside the doors, staring straight ahead, sweat clearly visible dripping down his face.

"Ensign, where did you earn your pilots certification?"

"The Academy, sir."

"Did you pass your qualifying exams?"

"Yes, sir."

"By how much?"

"Enough."

"You squeaked by, Ensign. Five tenths of a percent lower would have failed you. That is what I call cutting it close."

"Yes sir."

"Are you happy, Ensign?"

"Sir?"

Lyndan gestured for Tizeeh to have a seat, which he reluctantly took. Lyndan ordered a drink from the replicator, but Tizeeh declined when offered one. Lyndan then sat down next to him.

"Let's face it, Ensign, you're not exactly cut out to be a pilot. Is there anything else you'd rather do? Engineering, Science, Tactical, Communications, Security? Any of those strike your fancy?"

"Sir?"

"Or are you not happy on the _Hornet_? Would you like a transfer? If you want to remain a pilot, I'm sure I could get you a nice cargo route somewhere."

"I'm perfectly happy aboard the _Hornet_, sir. You, you'd really let me transfer away from Helm?"

"If I can find a better fit for you then Helm, then by all means."

Tizeeh sat for a moment, lost in thought. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Could I, er, that is, may I transfer to Tactical?"

"Do you have any experience with it?"

"Briefly"

"Alright, report to Lieutenant Duozo in Holodeck 3, he's running training for Tactical Operations. I'll let him know you're on the way."

"Thank you sir!" Tizeeh stood to leave, when he was thrown to the ground by a violent collision.

"Computer, freeze program!" Lyndan sighed, "I suppose I'd better go have a talk with Ensign Ricky. Good day, Ensign."

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_Captain's Log, Stardate Y-34_

_Stardates are forbidden in my log entries, in case they are compromised. Therefore, I shall be using the date the _Hornet's _refitting is complete as the base of the calender. It's been, oh, I don't know, 18 days since we arrived at Starbase. Four of those days were spent quelling complaints amongst the crew, which involved disciplinary actions and transfers of the more, shall we say, opinionated ones. In retrospect, my first approximation of the crew as inept cutthroats was unfair. They're good kids, because that's what most of them are, just kids, one or two years out of the Academy. They did scrape the bottom of the barrel for them, though. Most of them barely qualified for the positions they occupy. The past two weeks of simulations have let me weed out the more inept and find them better placements. Take Ensign Tizeeh, as a pilot he could hit a baseball in an otherwise empty sector. But in Tactical, he's found a home. I believe he's now the number two man in Torpedo Bay 2. As for prog... Computer, pause._

"Enter."

Lieutenant Commander Hazel Greene entered Lyndans quarters. At a mere 160 cm, she carried herself with an authority that offset her small stature. That, and the fact she was an expert in hand to hand combat stopped any hints of insubordination towards her long ago.

_It's too bad her eyes are brown, it would be funny if her eyes matched her name._ Lyndan thought better of voicing that opinion, Starfleet sexual harassment policies being rather vague in that area.

"What can I do for you, Commander?"

"I have the latest progress reports, sir. Lieutenant Duozo reports favorable progress in Tactical. Medical reports minimal gains, except in general first aid classes, which everyone has completed. Engineering repots a 5% increase in proficiency over yesterday, and the hands on training is proceeding slightly ahead of schedule. Security reports the latest batch of recruits is still in phaser training. Also, Lieutenant Srenk wants to know if there are more people he can use as instructors for hand to hand training."

"Excellent."

"Sir, do you think it's wise sending so many people into Security? Most of them will require a lot of training, and it's draining the other services."

"They'll require less training to become Security officers then they would had they stayed in their original posts. I think the shakedown went pretty well, true, there was a lot of shuffling, but everyone seems happy in their new jobs, and best of all, they can actually _do_ their new assignments."

"Sir, Security now makes up half the crew. Is that really necessary?"

"We are hunting pirates, Commander."

"It's just..." She trailed off.

"Lieutenant Srenk?"

"Sir, he did time in a Klingon penal colony!"

"So? What can I say, he had a rebellious youth."

"He's a Vulcan! They don't have rebellious youths!"

"That's a little stereotypical, no? Besides, he's put that behind him, and he's one hell of a fine officer."

"Yes sir."

"Alright, are we ready to move into combined drills? I want to see how well this crew can work together beyond their own little cliques."

"Almost sir. Three days at the latest."

"Excellent. Anything else, Commander?"

"No sir. Yes, sir." She hesitated. "I just want to say how impressed I am at your ability to turn this crew into a functional team. I wouldn't have believed it possible when I first saw them."

A wry grin spread across Lyndan's face. "Thank you, Commander. They may look like a well oiled machine now, but they only way to test if they're truly ready is a baptism of fire. Not even the best simulations can do that. And I fear it will happen sooner rather then any of them expect."

"Sir?"

"Pirate activity is up 10% since we arrived here. They're growing increasingly bold. They hit a _Federation_ transport and took nearly 100,000 tons of cargo. That seems to be an anomaly though. Still, it's worrying."

"Yes sir. I'll lean on the department heads to improve performance, without sacrificing quality to make increase speed."

"Very good, Commander. I'm glad you were assigned here, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Thank you, sir." She smiled and left with a bounce in her step.

_She has a promising career ahead of her, _Lyndan thought, _provided she doesn't get herself killed learning some valuable lessons._

"Computer, resume log."

_Where was I? Ah yes, progress on the refit. It's proceeding about three hours ahead of schedule now, with the main sensors upgraded, and half the new sensors installed. The phaser arrays have been stripped, and I've been told they're being replaced with Type XII Arrays. That should scare the hell out of someone when a Miranda packs the punch of a Sovereign! Of course, it also means the Warp Core needs to be replaced, and the power conduits and EPS relays need to be replaced as well to handle the new demand. That reminds me, I should ask about the shields. They've added six new torpedo launchers and tripled the torpedo compliment by converting some unused quarters to the task. It hasn't left a lot of room for the people who run everything, but it's not so bad that we're hot bunking...yet. If they keep adding things, there's going to be some detrimental effects on morale, not to mention interpersonal conflicts. Maybe the drydock crew can squeeze some extra living space by rearranging some non-structural bulkheads...hmm...I'll have a talk with the Cheif about that in the morning. Other then that, we have nearly a month left. And Commander Greene is right, hopefully the crew will be functioning like a well oiled machine by then. I only hope they can still function with sand in the gears._

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_Captain's Log Stardate Y-2_

_It's almost here! I'm so giddy, I feel like a kid on Christmas morning. Progress on the _Hornet_ has been phenomenal. The drydock crew is running some last minute tests on the new systems, and they may even be done by tomorrow! Then I get to take her for a week long shakedown. And the best part is we have a pilot who can take us out of drydock without scratching the paint! I must say, the crew has surpassed my wildest expectations. When we arrived here nearly two months ago, I would not have thought it possible for them to become a cohesive unit. I guess practice does make perfect. And what better practice then simulations 14 hours a day? Even the non-Marines in Security are almost as good as the Marines. Yes, I got Srenk to break down and tell me. It was rather obvious he and his senior and junior officers were all Federation Marines. And they've done a damn fine job in bringing the rest of the Security staff up to par. There was initially a lot of grumbling about the work hours, but that's died away as the crew realized they were _good _at what they did. Morale is the highest it's been in a long while, and like me, they're itching to get out there for the big show._

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A/N - Again, reviews are welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

_Captain's Log_

_Stardate Y+2_

_I must say things have not gotten off to a very auspicious start. Yesterday, we were testing the shields and weapons systems..._

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Stardate Y+1

"Helm, set course One-Six-Five Mark Two-Two-Zero." Commander Greene's voice betrayed her eagerness.

"Aye, course set One-Six-Five Mark Two-Two-Zero." Helm's voice also betrayed his elation.

Greene looked at Lyndan, his face impassive aside from the slight upticks at the corner of his mouth. But there was no mistaking the excitement in his eyes when he turned to her and gave the slightest of nods.

"Helm," Greene's voice still betrayed her. "Warp Two. Engage."

"Aye Aye, sir."

With that, _Hornet_ lept into the void to begin her space trials.

An hour later, Lyndan gave the order to drop out of warp.

"We should be far enough away from the Starbase to avoid any friendly fire." Lyndan grinned at Lieutenant Duozo.

"Yes, sir." Duozo returned the grin. "What shall we begin with?"

"Hm. Let's launch the target drones, then you can have target practice while helm goes through evasive maneuvers." Lyndan turned back to the viewscreen. "Oh, and launch the drones whenever you're ready." He added as an afterthought.

"Aye sir. Drones away."

Six drones appeared briefly on the viewscreen before the stars shifted abruptly as evasive maneuvers began. Target practice lasted all of 30 seconds as it became clear the training Duozo put his team through was paying handsome dividends.

"It's a pity we only have 100 drones, sir." There was a hint of disappointment in Duozo's voice. "Perhaps we can jump a few difficulty levels next time?"

"Ah, sir," Greene ventured, "About the drone compliment, there appears to have been a clerical error, and our drone compliment is closer to 1000 then 100."

"Really, Commander?" Lyndan's eyebrows rose. "Well, it would certainly be a shame to return with such a large surplus. Lieutenant, it looks like your torpedo crews are going to get lots of practice as well. Helm, evasive pattern Kirk Epsilon. Shields up, release the drones."

The stars shifted crazily again as Helm began the new maneuvers.

"Shields up." Duozo confirmed. "Wait, and, they're down. Damage reports coming in, sir. An EPS relay on Deck 3 failed. Casualties en route to sickbay. Damage control teams en route to Deck 3."

"All Stop! Lower the shields and power down the weapons!" Greene's voice was an octave to high.

_Don't panic on me, Commander._ "Commander, get to Engineering and find out what the hell happened. I'll be in Sickbay. Lieutenant Duozo, you have the bridge." Lyndan stood, gestured Greene to follow, and headed to the turbolift.

When the doors closed, Greene turned to Lyndan.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to..."

Lyndan waved her silent. "Hazel, unfortunately, this is the only way to gain experience. No matter how good the simulation, no matter how good the training, it cannot compare to reality. Deep down, you know the simulation isn't real. No one will die if you make a mistake. You can always reset and try again." He paused. "You did well, Hazel."

"It... it just... popped... into my head."

"That's why we train so long and hard. It enables us to react without having to think, wasting precious time coming to a decision. An even if what you do isn't the best possible choice, 99 times out of 100, it's better then doing nothing. There are few things more dangerous to a crew then an indecisive leader. The big one is a panicking captain. In an emergency, everyone is going to be terrified. They will look to the captain for strength, guidence, and stability. YOU are the rock upon which they will anchor themselves. The trick is to project an aura of confidence and command of the situation."

"But how?"

"Practice. That, and the confidence exhibited by your crew will reinforce you. They draw strength from you, and you from them."

"Does it get easier, sir? I know this wasn't even a big emergency, but, does it?"

"I wish I could say it does, Hazel." Lyndan's eyes softened as his gaze shifted back, to some dark moments in his history. "But as long as it doesn't, it lets us know we're still human."

"Thank you sir" Greene stepped off the lift, turned. "I'll have a report to you in sickbay as soon as possible."

Lyndan nodded.

As the doors closed, Greene heard him say something, barely above a whisper. "I wish it did."

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Lyndan stood just inside the door to Sickbay, staying out of the way of the medics engaged in complex choreography. Three men? were in sterile fields in the operating bay, barely visible through the throng of medical personnel hovering around them. Off to the side on biobeds were two more men being treated for minor burns. Lyndan made his way over to them, careful to stay out of the way.

"Ensign? What happened down there? Ensign?" Lyndan asked the first man, his voice was low and calm.

The Ensign stared straight ahead. The other was equally unresponsive.

"Sir. They're in shock." A voice from behind caused him to turn. Before him stood a small Andorian female, carrying hyposprays and dermal regenerators.

"Do you know what happened, Ensign..."

"Schrana, sir. All I know is that they came in like this."

"They pulled them out." A deep voice called out from the door.

Lyndan turned to face the newcomer, a Lieutenant from Engineering. _Pockers_, he thought. _Lieutenant Pockers_.

"Those two, Williams and Ricardo, were repairing a broken LCARS display down the hall from the EPS relay. I was past them, checking the calibration of another relay. I'm not sure who those three are, or what they were doing, they weren't from my team. I heard the explosion, and the screams. Being closer, Williams and Ricardo got there first. They just, charged in. Didn't even hesitate. They must have been part of their team. I ran to the nearest access point and shut down the grid the junction was part of. I don't know who called for medics and damage control, if it was me, I don't remember. But they were there when I got back, just taking the last of them away. I was checking nearby junctions when Chief Engineer Halleck grabbed me and sent me up here to get checked out."

"Go get yourself checked out Lieutenant." Lyndan clasped him by the shoulder. "Go grab a bed."

Lyndan looked around. The OR was still buzzing with activity. His chief medical officer was no where in si... wait, there he was, hunched over one of the men. Knowing he would be in the way if he stayed, Lyndan cautiously made his way back to the door. Lyndan let out a deep, shaking breath when the doors closed behind him. As much as he hated touring sickbay, he knew it was vital that the crew knew he was there for them, cared for them, knew they weren't anonymous statistics to him, but actual people.

It never got easier.

As he stood there, an Ensign from Engineering strode up to him.

"Sir!" He held out a PADD. "Commander Greene said I could find you here, and I was to await a response."

Curious, Lyndan took the PADD, reading it carefully. _She certainly has initiative_ he thought. Taking the warp core offline was a big step, but her reasoning was flawless. It appeared the drydock crew had replaced the wrong EPS junction, one that fed the replicators on the port side of Deck 3, rather then the junction which fed the new port side shield generator. It wasn't able to handle the demand, and failed. _Can't those damned engineers design anything that doesn't explode violently when it fails?_ Lyndan fumed. They'd already found one other conduit which had failed to be replaced, and one more on the verge of failing. In order to thoroughly and safely examine the other EPS conduits and junctions which should have been replaced, the warp core had to be offline.

"Tell her to carry on, but make sure we have power for the impulse engines and Sickbay as top priority."

"Yes sir." The Ensign turned on his heel and all but ran down the hall.

"Captain to the Bridge."

"Bridge here, Captain." Duozo's voice rang out clearly.

"Lieutenant, set a course for Starbase 653, full impulse. And alert the Starbase we need a tow back, we have casualties and no warp capability."

"Aye sir."

_Well, this is off to a rather inauspicious start_ Lyndan thought as he made his way back to the bridge.

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_Captain's Log_

_Stardate Y+2_

_...Fortunately, our arrival at Starbase 653 was uneventful. A tug arrived within 20 minutes, and we were back in dock within the hour. Our casualtiues were transferred to the starbase's more extensive facilities, and their teams of engineers are scouring the ship, double and triple checking everything. Srenk feared sabotage, but I was able to talk him into at least accepting clerical error as the more likely culprit. He's still off assigning guards and setting anti-saboteur patrols, as long as it keeps him happy and doesn't interfere in the repair work, I'll let him be. _

_Commander Greene is a fine officer indeed. She came through her first real crisis a little shaken, but you can't temper steel without a fire. And once she got down to business, she handled herself quite well. She does have the tendancy to exert a lot of initiative and occasionally overreach her authority, but she wouldn't be command material if she didn't._

_I'm also recommending Ensigns Williams and Ricardo be awarded Citations of Conspicuous Gallantry for their actions in rescuing Ensigns Mikenzie, Tzvavavich, and O'Lemsak. Fortunately, they should all make full recoveries._

_I have just received new orders that we are to try again on Y+4 with space trials, and that we should finish them by Y+7 so we can be on station by Y+10. Something has changed, we weren't originally supposed to be there until Y+14. Something must have come up, and I don't like having to rush space trials to meet it, especially considering what's already gone wrong. They won't even tell me what to expect beyond the ever vague 'pirates.' And I would really rather not find out the hard way what kind of firepower they're packing._

_It appears the Admiral wishes to have a word with me, maybe she'll tell me something useful. Computer, end log._

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Reviews will encourage me to continue! Well, that and boredom. But they will also help me improve my writing!


	4. Chapter 4

Stardate Y+11

"Sir, I think there's a ship ahead of us, bearing Three-Five--Five Mark Zero-One-Zero."

"What do you mean you 'think' Lieutenant? Is there a ship or isn't there?" Greene's voice held a hint of annoyance. "This is the third sensor ghost today."

"No, there is definitely a ship there, sir. I'm getting faint power readings. They're fluctuating wildly." Lieutenant Duozo became alarmed. "Large spike in the readings, I think they just had an explosion. Readings are very faint now."

"Helm, plot an intercept and engage." Greene sighed. "Captain to the bridge. I think we're going to have a delay in reaching our station."

-----------------------------------------

"Does anyone know what the hell that is?" Lyndan's voice rang across the bridge. "Commander?"

"No sir."

"Lieutenant?"

"No sir. It's not in any of our databases."

Lyndan hit a button on his armrest. "Engineering."

"Halleck here, sir."

"Do you know what the hell that thing is?"

Halleck examined a monitor displaying the wreck. "Yeah, scrap."

"I'm not in the mood, George."

"Fine. I've never seen anything like it. I'll have to take a closer look if you want to know more about her."

"Assemble two away teams, equipped for EVA. And focus more on finding out what cut her so neatly in two. When you know that, then you can satisfy your curiosity."

"Aye sir. Halleck out."

Lyndan hit the button twice. "Security."

"Srenk."

"Lieutenant, prepare two away teams for EVA. Meet the Engineers in Transporter Rooms 1 and 2."

"Aye aye sir."

Lyndan hit the button and turned to Greene. "Interested, Commander?"

"Yes sir." Greene's eyes lit up.

"Good." Lyndan smiled. "Take some medical and science personnel over in a shuttle. There may or may not be some untransportable items there."

"Yes sir." Greene headed for the turbolift. "Am I looking for anything in particular?"

"Anything and everything. And try not to get yourself killed."

"I'll do my best sir." Greene replied as the doors closed on her ear to ear grin.

----------------------------------------------------

"Lieutenant Srenk!"

"Ah, Commander, I am glad to see that you have arrived safely. Where may I ask did you leave the shuttle?"

"We docked with an airlock that still functioned. It mated with ours, so either we were really lucky or they are aware of Federation standards."

"Oh, they're familiar with Federation standards. Follow me, please." Srenk turned and lead Greene down the hallway to a door with a guard outside. The guard saluted and opened the door. Greene followed Srenk inside and stopped cold. Bodies, body parts, bodily fluids and things that probably came from the bodies but were no longer identifiable as such covered the room. Which was impressive considering the cargo bay was 100 meters long, 30 wide and 10 high.

"...50 or so bodies, most unrecognizable, though there are a few preliminary identifications. Tentatively, we've identified humans, Klingons, Vulcans, Cardassians, Orions, Andorians and Tellerites. We've recovered half a dozen different varieties of weapons, including Klingon disruptors and Federation phasers, they seem to be the most popular. The cargo containers are labeled in Federation standard, Klingon, Cardassian, Romulan, and a few I don't recognize. Everything else on the ship is in Federation standard. I've got a team breaking into their armory, and the engineers are trying to hack the encryption they have on their computer core. If you want more technical details, I believe the Chief Engineer is in Engineering, I'll have Jenkins escort you there."

"Thank you, perhaps later. What's the blue stuff on the floor? There's an awful lot of it to be blood..."

"It's not. Romulan Ale. The cargo containers diddn't fare to well in the firefight. I estimate there is at least 20,000 liters still here, with only 10 liters bottled. It seems whomever won the battle took the surviving cargo and left."

"An entire cargo hold full of Romulan Ale? And they were killed for it?" Greene was shocked.

"No, they were carrying more then ale. We have also discovered wheat, blood wine, a few dilithium crystals, some broken pottery, 200 grams of utritium, and a few drops of latinum."

"Now there's a cargo worth killing over. Wait, what the hell were they doing with utritium?"

"I don't know, but the brick we found usually is packaged and shipped in counts of 5000. And it was unmarked, and untraceable."

"I think I'll head to engineering now." Greene could feel a headache coming on, and wished she could reach her head.

"Ma'am, if you'll follow me, please?" Jenkins motioned to the door.

-----------------------------------------

"Lieutenant Commander Halleck, please tell me you have good news." Greene was mentally exhausted from the trip. There were corpses everywhere, some charred beyond recognition, others preserved almost perfectly by vacuum. Jenkins hadn't seemed phased by the carnage, but Greene was glad she hadn't eaten that day.

"Define good. We haven't been able to hack the encryption. It's not sophisticated, but it's big enough to be a headache. On the upside, it appears to be the only thing around here that was encrypted. We've got the terminals up and running, but they don't appear to have anything to useful. No ship specs, no weapons load out, no cargo manifest. But I do have logs of transmissions made for an hour before they died, a duty roster, a menu, and maintenance requests for several hand phasers and one ship mounted disruptor."

"Impressive."

"The best is yet to come, we also have their star charts and a record of where they've been for the last three months. We found that gem in the captain's terminal, isolated from the rest of the ship's computer. I've already sent it over to Astrocartography."

"Good work. What else have you ben able to find out?"

"We're not done with the preliminary inspection of the hardware, but I can give you an approximate idea of her capabilities. Oh, and I can tell you what cut her in two."

"What?"

"A few well placed torpedos that broke her back, combined with a tractor beam and some abrupt maneuvers."

"Ma'am," Jenkins piped up. "They've made it into the armory. It's empty aside from a few photon grenades."

"Thank you." Grenne nodded. "What about this ship's capabilities?"

"Well," Halleck hesitated. "This is more a guess then anything else, but I'd say she'd cruise around Warp 7, maybe 7.5. She's sacrificed arms for speed, which means a border runner, and her size makes her one of the largest I've seen. Her shields are military grade, a little out of date though, so probably picked up from a mothball yard or other surplus supply. All in all, I think she'd be a match for the _Hornet_. She can't outgun us, but she can take what we can throw at her long enough to get out of range."

"You seem pretty certain for a preliminary guess."

"I've dealt with these kinds of ships before. There's no money to be made fighting, so they put their resources into speed and cargo capacity. The problem with that is when they reach their buyer, who may not want to _buy_ anything. I would hazard that's what happened here."

"Thanks Halleck. Jenkins, do you know how to get to the bridge from here?" She turned to the young security officer politely waiting several steps away.

"Yes ma'am."

"All right. I'll be on the bridge if anyone needs to find me, George. Jenkins, lead the way."

-----------------------------------

_First Officer's Log_

_Stardate Y+11_

_This ship scares the hell out of me. I can smell death even though the ship is open to vacuum. The worst is unexpectedly coming across a corpse. I almost threw up when I can across one Andorian with his guts splayed all over the wall. Jenkins of course doesn't seem phased by any of this at all. He carries himself like this is just another days work, nothing he hasn't seen, or caused, before. I really don't want to dwell on that, he seems like such a nice kid. Anyway, the bridge was surprisingly untouched by violence. No burn marks, scorch marks, blood trails or, thankfully, bodies. There was already a team present when we arrived on the bridge. They weren't having any luck with the computers though, it seems anything useful is locked away behind the encryption. _

_I'm heading back to the _Hornet_ within the hour, and the away teams will follow shortly after. We can't dally here to long or we'll be unacceptably late arriving on station. Captain Lyndan told the Chief Engineer he has 40 minutes to break the encryption, if he wants to keep going after that, he has to bring the core with him. I hope the shuttle is large enough. Um, let's see, oh, Dr. Clauzwits beamed 20 or so bodies back to autopsy and identify them. As long as I don't have to see them on board, I'm glad they're out of my way here. and Lieutenant Srenk want's to destroy the remaining contraband wi... what the hell? Where did that ship come from? Did it just de-cloak? What's it d... _

"TORPEDOES INCOMING! BRACE FOR IMPACT! CAPT-"

------------------------------------

Review, please. They give me the hope (and feedback) to keep writing (hopefully well, which the reviews help with.)


	5. Chapter 5

"TORPEDOES INCOMING! BRACE FOR IMPACT! CAPT-" The bridge dissolved around Greene as the last image she saw was a torpedo headed directly for her.

Only to be replaced instantly by the familiar sight of Transporter Room 3.

"-TAIN INcoming hos...tiles?" Greene's confusion was immediately replaced by relief.

"Bridge, that's the last of them." The transporter chief reported.

"Good, tell Greene to get her ass up to the bridge as soon as is convenient for her."

"Aye sir." The chief nodded. "Sir, the captain requests..."

Greene removed her helmet as she made her way to the door. "I heard. Thanks."

--------------------------------

"What's going on?" Greene raced onto the bridge, helmet tucked awkwardly under her arm as she stood out of place in her EVA suit.

"Nothing." Lyndan was disappointed. "Anymore. It was over in under half a minute. They ignored us, but blew the wreck into even smaller pieces." He turned as Greene took her seat on his right. "I think you'll have time to change. I'll fill you in with what we know when you get back."

"Yes sir." Greene stepped into the turbolift, leaving a silent bridge behind her. Once the doors closed though, she had to steady herself against the wall to keep from collapsing as the emotional toll of the previous hour broke over her.

Ten minutes elapsed before Greene felt able to confront the world. She was dismayed to find that Lyndan was not on the bridge. The duty officer indicated the conference room in response to her apparent confusion. She was the last senior officer to arrive much to her chagrin.

_Oh god, they're waiting for me. I'm not that late, am I? Did he say there would be a meeting? Oh god, he's looking at me, he knows why it took me so long..._

"Commander Greene, would you like something to drink?" Lyndan offered as he stood by the replicator. "We're still waiting for Lieutenants Duozo and Srenk to bring each other up to speed." He nodded to the two men quietly talking in the corner.

Greene nodded, thankful he wouldn't bring up her tardiness in front of the others.

Lyndan took his seat at the head of the oblong table, and Greene sat beside him.

"So, Commander, how was your first away mission with the _Hornet_?" Lyndan smiled.

"Sir?"

"I remember my first away mission where I was in command." Lyndan closed his eyes and sat back. "Technically I was fourth in the chain of command when the mission began. The Cardassians jumped us when we boarded a derelict Federation cargo transport. Bastards left a team on board to salvage her, we beamed right into an ambush. A young ensign and I were chased throughout the ship. We took a detour through main engineering before we made it to the escape pods. I got a reprimand for that."

"You got a reprimand for being chased off the ship?"

"No, I got a commendation for saving the remainder of the away team. The reprimand was for the two phasers I left on overload in the warp core." Lyndan sat straighter and smiled. "I wasn't about to let those bastards have the ship."

Greene nodded, unsure of how to properly respond. Srenk saved her from having to continue this increasingly awkward conversation.

"Sir, we are ready to begin." Srenk's monotone voice was barely audible over the hum of conversation.

Everyone took their seats while Srenk and Duozo flanked the main presentation screen.

"This is going to be a short meeting, because we don't really know anything about these ships or the people who crew them. First, the wreck we found." Lieutenant Duozo hit a button and a schematic of the cargo ship appeared on the screen. "We're going to call it an 'Apple' class cargo ship. There were no visible registration or identification marks. The crew compliment is between 50 and 75. It can cruise at Warp 7.2, and has minimal defensive armament. The cargo capacity is close to three hundred thousand cubic meters. This one was mostly carrying Romulan ale. And the components all meet Federation standards. That is what we know of the 'Apple' class." Duozo appeared uneasy before the group. "Questions? I'm sorry we don't know more, but there wasn't a lot of time to study the ship. No questions? All right." He hit another button and the cargo ship was replaced by the other ship which had attacked it. "We're calling this a 'Banana' class. I'm not entirely sure what it is, but I guess it's about equal to a frigate or crusier escort. It carries torpedoes, and at least three launchers. Phaser compliment is unknown, as well as their shields. It carries an older generation cloaking device, so in theory we can track them. Sorry, but that's all we know."

"Did they know we had a team on the 'Apple'?" Lyndan's voice was harsh.

"I can't say for certain because I'm not sure of their sensor capabilities..."

"Then guess."

"Yes. They knew. They ignored the other cargo bays despite the presence of cargo. They targeted points where the away team was present. The armory, bridge, engineering, even several corridors where people were in transit."

Lyndan's eyes grew cold and distant as his face turned to stone. Greene stiffled an urge to move away. She couldn't figure out why, but the captain's behavior frightened her. She could feel the malestrom of emotion boiling under his stoic exterior.

"Lieutenant Srenk," Greene was surprised to hear her own voice. "What were you able to learn from the weapons and positions of the crew?"

"Quite a bit Commander. The hand weapons were standard to a number of governments, including the Federation and Klingons. But more importantly, the positions of the bodies revealed the boarding tactics." Srenk hit several buttons, and a deck by deck layout of the 'Apple' appeared. "Bodies found in hallways leading to Engineering, the Bridge, and the cargo bays were found with weapons undrawn, often shot in the back. I believe boarding teams were beamed aboard at key junctions and in key corridor access points. Holding the junctions prevents movement by security teams, while the corridors would provide staging points for further assaults."

"Why not beam directly into Engineering or the Bridge?" Lyndan was intrigued. Greene's question had grabbed his interest and snapped him out of his downward spiral of anger and hostility.

"Transporter dampening fields, perhaps, or transporter inhibitors protecting key locations."

"Would they attempt to board us should we come into conflict with them?"

"It would be to their advantage to board us, especially if their ship is inferior to ours."

"Should they board, can we stop them?" Greene asked.

"Yes, I believe so..." Srenk retreated into deep thought.

"Write up a plan and submit it to Commander Greene and myself. Any further questions? No? Alright, thank you everyone for coming. We shall be arriving on station in 30 minutes, so I shall see you at your stations. Dismissed." Lyndan stood abruptly and headed for the door. Before he moved away Greene could swear she heard him mutter something about 'damned potak verrul pirate scum...'.

------------------------------------------------------

_First Officer's Log_

_Stardate: Y+15_

_We arrived on station, and waited. And waited. In fact, we're still waiting. Captain Lyndan was expecting something to happen, and has grown more angry and annoyed as nothing continues to happen. He retired to his ready room on the first day and has not come out since. We know he isn't dead beacuse he communicates through the comm system with us, asking for the occasional status update. I'm glad I can do that over the comm, because I don't think I'd want to face him. _

_Anyway, uh, Lieutenant Srenk's recommendations for improved security are wonderful. I wholeheartedly endorsed his plan, and the captain agreed. There are now permanent security detachments in Engineering, Sickbay, the Bridge, the Armory, and other sensitive areas. Body armor is now part of the security duty uniform. Upon the issuance of Yellow Alert or higher, the details are in some cases quadrupled, but normally doubled. Security will fortify choke points throughout the ship to limit the spread of any invasion force. In fact barricades (3 cm thick tritanium plates attached to the bulkheads with hinges for rapid deployment) have already been installed in some corridors. The rest should be done in a week. Srenk wanted to deploy motion activated mines, but I vetoed that idea. The chance one of our people in the heat of the moment would forget where the mines are and blow themselves up is to great. He seemed rather disappointed, which I thought was strange (he is Vulcan) so I told him he could place remotely detonated mines along the more sensitive corridors. That seemed to please him. I hope I don't regret that...I should find him and tell him the mines should only be placed in Yellow Alert or higher...Computer pause..._

_..._

_All right, it's a good thing I took care of that when I did, he was about to begin installing the mines. I told him he can pick where he wants to deploy them, but not to place them. He agreed, but didn't sound to happy about it._

_Sigh. I can't put this off any longer, I need to talk to the Captain. The problem is that this sector is empty, there are almost no natural navigational aides. To aide in navigation once we begin our patrol, I recommended we drop navigational beacons along our route. So the beacons don't give us away, I also recommended they not broadcast on the normal NavAid frequency, but on a different one, and that they only respond to a hail from us. I submitted this plan yesterday, and have yet to hear back from him. I really hope his mood has improved. _

-----------------------------------------------

_Captain's Log_

_Stardate: Y+15_

_Damn the brass! I'd have it out with T'Prau, but she'd kill me without getting out of her chair. And that bastard Planchette, I'll bet he's still trying to figure out a way to get me killed without drawing to much attention. He almost did it in the Typhon Sector. At least T'Prau does her own dirty work. Planchette is to much the politician for that. I bet he's the one behind these damn orders, playing mind games with me. 'Upon arrival at the preassigned coordinates, hold your position and await further instructions.' Simple. It's been two f*cking days. Wait, why is the transcript censored? Screw it, I'll deal with it later. I cannot let them win this game. We will sit here until we are forced back by lack of supplies before I beg for orders to actually do something. _

_Maybe some of this paperwork will distract me. All this stress can't be good for my blood pressure. Ah, let's see...Security readiness reports...Tactical readiness reports...Engineering readiness reports...Engineering Repair Log...that looks interesting...let's see...another EPS junction? Damn it, and a sensor node. Turbolift 3 is still down, and 10 doors were repaired. Six replicators are down, and Transporter Room One had a pad fail its routine safety diagnostic. Lovely. What else? Shuttlecraft 4 failed it's safety inspection. I need to find something more upbeat. Commander Greene left me several reports. 'New Strategies and Tactics to Repel Boarders.' Didn't I tell her I approved that? Oh, wait, I told Lieutenant Srenk. I should let her know I approved her proposal and passed it on to Srenk. Although, she probably knows by now. Srenk's rather efficient about these things. Hm, what's this? 'Navigational Aides.' This is good. I like it. I wonder why she hasn't stopped by to check up on these. Come to think of it, no one has dropped in for almost two days now. I wonder...oh yeah, the briefing. I was a little pissed at the end of that. The bastards tried to kill my crew! For that, they shall pay. The lucky ones, at least. The unlucky ones I'll turn over to Srenk for interrogation..._

--------------------------------------------------

The door chime startled Lyndan from his nap. It took several seconds to get his bearings and respond appropriately for the door to open. He was surprised to see Greene timidly step through the door.

"Good, morning, is it, Commander?"

"Afternoon, actually, sir. I hope I'm not disturbing you..."

"No, not at all. In fact you're saving me from paperwork. So, what can I do for you?"

Greene straightened and addressed a point above Lyndan's head. "I was curious to know if you have reviewed my plan for navigational beacons. Sir."

"Yes, I have. I wholeheartedly endorse you plan. You may begin implementing it immediately. Once we start patrolling, that is."

"I'll have the beacons ready before then, sir."

"I know you will." Lyndan smiled up at her. "Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Would you like a drink?"

"Uh, no, thank you, sir." Greene reluctantly took a seat.

"Don't be so nervous Hazel. I don't bite. Why has everyone been treading so carefully around me? You're the first person to stop by in two days."

"You were very, um, angry, following the briefing. No one wanted to risk you wrath." Greene was visibly nervous. "I'm sorry about the ship, I didn't..."

Lyndan cut her off. "You have nothing to apologize for. You did everything by the book. Granted, there wasn't a hell of a lot you could have done on that drifting scrap heap. But your reactions were perfect. I'm proud of how you handled yourself."

"I was terrified. I don't even remember issuing any orders." She started to tear up. "I just heard myself start to yell..."

"And they responded, didn't they?" Greene nodded and Lyndan smiled. "That is why we train, Hazel. Long and hard days of training give the crew a chance to receive their pensions. Do you remember the first training regimen I put you through?"

Greene smiled. "I do. If I recall correctly, I damaged your ship four times."

"Five."

"The last one wasn't my fault, he rammed me!"

Lyndan laughed. "Do you know why he, or rather Lieutenant Srenk, rammed you? Because you left him no other alternative to complete the mission. You're a quick learner, and I must say, Srenk was impressed with your performance. As was I."

"I always had the distinct feeling those simulations were rigged so that I would always fail." Greene gave Lyndan the evil eye.

"You'd be half right. Of course they were rigged. But not to fail you, just to see how adaptable you were. It was always possible to complete your mission."

"At the cost of the ship!"

"Yes, sometimes that's how it goes." Lyndan visibly bowed under the weight of responsibility. "And you must be prepared to make that call on the spot. It's a hard, cruel universe out there, and I'm trying to give you every advantage in facing it."

"Thank you, sir." Greene's voice was barely a whisper. She had thought Lyndan was torturing her because she was new, testing her to see how far he could push her. She was half right, he was pushing her. And she could feel the crushing burden of command as she realized why.

"Don't worry about it, you're not a captain yet. Let me deal with the responsibility. I just want you to be ready should the time come."

Greene nodded, but her reply was cut off by Lieutenant Duozo.

"Sir," Duozo's voice was clear over the comm. "We have received an encoded transmission from Starbase 653."

"Patch it through to my ready room." Lyndan eagerly scanned his display before jumping up excitedly. "Hot damn, we have orders! Helm, set a course for Two-Two-Two mark Two-Two-Two. Warp 5. Let's go!"


	6. Chapter 6

_Captain's Log_

_Stardate: Y+16_

_It's been well over sixteen hours since I recieved orders to set course Two-Two-Two mark Two-Two-Two at Warp 5. That's all the orders contained aside from T'prau's identification code. Unfortunately, the orders are authenic. I don't know where the hell we're going, what we'll find when we get there, or dammit, _when _we'll get there. I honestly hope it isn't anytime soon. The repairs we recieived are beginning to break down. Well, not the repairs per say, but the ship the repairs are attached too. We need at least another day to effect repairs, _IF _nothing else breaks down. Which is a mighty big if. To cope with the unknown we're facing, I've switched to six hour shifts to keep the crew alert. The ship has also been cleared for action, which is efficient for battle but disrupts regular operation. Long range sensors are quiet, nothing within a lightyear has an active energy source. The sensor techs say they should be able to detect a cloaked ship like the one we encoutered, but we won't know until we find one, or it finds us. Wither way, we're likely to find out the hard way. _

_Where the hell are we going? There's not a damn thing I know of on this course we'll reach in our lifetimes. There's no stars, no known starbases. Honestly, this entire situation feels like a trap..._

* * *

"Sir, we have something on long range sensors!" Conn shouted across the bridge in his excitement, his voice hitting an octave Lyndan didn't know a man could reach without the help of a persuasive Klingon.

"Commander Greene to the Bridge. Would you like to share what it is, or are you going to keep us all in suspense?" Lyndan kept his excitement from his voice. Excitement is infectious, and excited people make mistakes. Lyndan wasn't sure they could afford any mistakes.

"It's a ship sir. It ... it dis ... no ... it's still th ... and it's gone again. I think it cloaked.

"What? Don't tell me the sensors are failing." Lyndan stared at the ceiling.

"I don't believe so, but I'll run a diagnos... Warp core breech in progress!"

A blinding white flash lit up the view screen.

"The sensors are fine sir." Conn looked back at the captain. "The ship ejected its warp core. They were unable to get clear and took heavy damage."

"Sir, incoming automated distress call." Duozo drew Lyndan's attention from the flustered Ensign.

"This doesn't feel right." Lyndan eyed the view screen suspiciously. "Helm, set a course, Warp 5."

"What's going on, sir?" Commander Greene asked as soon as she stepped off the lift.

"I don't know, but alert Lieutenant Srenk to move his men into position. If this gets ugly, it'll be fast. Duozo, load the torpedo tubes but don't power them up. Conn, how much time?"

"Three minutes."

"All right. Yellow Alert. Lieutenant, open a channel with the ship. I want to know if anyone is still alive. Commander, grab Srenk and tell him to get a security detail ready to board. When the ship is secure, you and the relief teams will follow."

"Aye sir." Greene turned and promptly re-entered the lift.

Silence engulfed the bridge as the minutes ticked by. Finally, the _Hornet_ entered transporter range.

"Lyndan to Srenk."

"Srenk here."

"Are your men in position?"

"Yes sir, four squads with full kit. Ready on your order."

"Standby. Anything on sensors?" Lyndan inquired.

"No sir, there does not appear to be anything within two light years." Duozo responded. "I'll keep an eye out for anything that looks like a cloaked ship."

"All right, Srenk. Go."

* * *

Long minutes dragged by as Lyndan waited anxiously for word from his away team.

"Srenk to _Hornet_."

"_Hornet_ here." Lyndan was secretly relieved the ship had not exploded as soon as his men transported aboard.

"The ship is secure Captain. Send the engineers over, but not the med techs. The ship is deserted."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised. Standby, engineering teams are on their way."

* * *

"Jenkins, McElroy. Escort the Commander as long as she's aboard. Vingeaio, take your squad and sweep the ship again." Srenk eyed the surroundings warily. "I don't like the feel of this ship."

Commander Greene materialized on the transporter pad with the first of the engineers. "Lieutenant. I hope things go better than our last away mission. Have you found anything of interest?"

"Only if you count nothing as interesting. The ship is completely empty. Yet, there are no escape pods missing, and the shuttle bay is full." Srenk nodded towards the doors. "I have never seen anything like this. It's a conglomeration of Federation and Klingon technology, well over half a century old. The ship appears to be secure, but I have detailed an escort just in case." Srenk nodded to Jenkins and McElroy.

"I'm sure that won't be necessary." Greene managed to hide her relief. "I'm going to take a team to the Bridge, you take a team to Engineering." Greene hesitated at the doors. "Completely deserted? Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be without ripping open every bulkhead."

Greene quashed the idea before it could grow on Srenk. "That will not be necessary."

* * *

Greene had a strange sense of deja vu when she stepped on the bridge. It took her a moment to realize the setup was almost identical to the museum piece Oberth class _Alabama_ she used to visit as a child. The familiarity was reassuring. Also familiar, but not in the least reassuring, was the captain's chair, with her name carved into the seat, and a warning that it would be best if she was to go to Engineering.

"McElroy, Jenkins. Engineering, please." Greene was proud she kept her voice steady even as the rest of her was shaking uncontrollably.

* * *

Greene stormed into Engineering. "Lieutenant, what the hell is going on? There was a message for me on the bridge!"

Srenk looked at her calmly. "I see. There was a message for me as well." He indicated the display above the terminal he was using. It read 'SRENK USE THIS TERMINAL' "The files are encrypted with my personal key. I was just about to call you when you arrived."

"What the hell is going on?" Greene was slowly losing her battle for control.

"Maybe we will know when these files are decrypted." Srenk shrugged.

"You have odd mannerisms for a Vulcan." Greene observed.

Srenk opened his mouth to respond when the terminal beeped. Only a small portion of encrypted text was converted to plain text, which read, 'GIVE THIS TO GREENE.' with an arrow pointing right. Srenk turned to Greene with a raised eyebrow, then looked at the now activated terminal. Greene stepped over to the terminal and entered her key. Immediately the terminal got to work. Within minutes a small block of plain text appeared on the screen. 'G3T Y0UR P3.0PL3 0FF THE SHIP N0W AND GET THIS TO LYNDAN AT WARP 6.' The text faded as a PADD was ejected from Greene's terminal. Greene grabbed the PADD and looked at Srenk.

"Greene to away team, drop what you are doing and prepare for emergency beam out." Greene counted to 10, then contacted _Hornet_. "_Hornet_ this is Greene. Request emergency beam out of the away team."

Greene had hardly finished her sentence when she found herself on the pad in Transporter Room 3.

* * *

Greene sprinted to the Bridge, only stopping when she reached the turbo lift. She arrived just as Lyndan ordered Red Alert.

"Three ships decloaked between us and the derelict." Lyndan kept his attention on the screen. "Right after you beamed the away team back. I think they've been watching us. I'm still wondering how they managed to get so close."

"Their cloaks are new models, sir. I didn't see them until they started decloaking." Duozo apologized.

"Sir, this had your name on it." Greene thrust the PADD at Lyndan. "I recommend we set course 303 mark 030 at Warp 6."

Lyndan stared at the screen. "Helm, standby to get us the hell out of here on those coordinates. Conn, open a channel."

"Aye sir."

Lyndan took the proffered PADD and examined it closely. "Unidentified ship, this is the Federation Starship _Hornet_. Identify yourself."

"They're jamming us." Duozo announced.

"I knew this felt like a trap." Lyndan muttered under his breath. "Helm, engage"

* * *

_Hornet _raced among the stars, pursued by the three silent ships.


	7. Chapter 7

The door chime drew Lyndan's attention to the door. He had been ignoring visitors for several hours, lost in thought following the revelations in the PADD Greene had handed him earlier that day. He had watched the file so many times he felt he could recite it in his sleep. But he had to make sure, absolutely sure, what his orders stated. He already knew what the message would say, but he pressed started the message anyway. Admiral T'Prau's face appeared on screen.

_Captain Lyndan, I was hoping to meet you in person to deliver this news face to face. Alas, events outside of my control have dictated an alternate course of events. Approximately forty hours from when you embarked on course 303 mark 030, you will arrive at on of the most secure facilities in the Federation. I cannot say what it is in this message, but suffice to say you will be the fifth person in known space to know of its existence. Even those stationed there do not know what it is, and think they are at various deep space stations. Now, as for the ships that are following you. When you approach the facility, they will challenge you. The correct answer is "_Lady of the Lake._" Answer quickly, yet any other answer will result in the destruction of your ship. As you have no doubt guessed, there are no pirates in this sector. They are a top secret, covert operations group masquerading as pirates. It may not seem ethical, but it is easier to deal with unauthorized and trespassing ships this way. Less red tape, and no one questions the motives of pirates. Now, I should not tell you this, and you must forget you ever heard this. But I feel it is necessary for you to know the reasoning behind the orders you are about to receive, as they may appear to be ... contradictory ... to the values of Starfleet and yourself. I was not entirely honest with you when I gave you your initial orders. You are on an intelligence gathering mission, but not against Fleet Admiral Bower. There is a threat massing on our borders, and we are not prepared to meet it. Again, specifics will have to wait until you arrive at the facility. But rest assured, your mission is vital to the interests of the Federation. Now, for your orders. When you arrive at the facility, you will put in for repairs and resupply. Just before departure, you will be detained for an emergency courts martial and will turn command over to your XO. She will take the ship on a short shakedown cruise to test the quality of the repairs. Her course will take her into a vital area, where there is a high likely hood the _Hornet_ will be attacked and destroyed. The repairs will add numerous sensors to capture the final moments of the _Hornet_. It may seem cruel, but no ship has ever survived contact with this particular enemy, and we have almost no intelligence to work with. The sacrifice of your ship will provide us with valuble information to combat this threat. And if somehow the _Hornet_ does survive, the charges which will be placed during the repairs will ensure there are no survivors to tell the tale. There are only a handful of people cleard to know about this. I am sorry Hugh. I truly am. If there was any other way..."_

Watching it again had not helped. He probably broke his hand on the damned bulkhead after his first viewing. The second and third viewing had not helped his hand either. After the dozenth viewing Lyndan sat in the dark, contemplating his future. Neither option looked particularly enticing. One one hand, he could condemn his crew to certain death. It would not be the first time Lyndan had sent good men off to die, but he had always shared the risks and perils. But this, this was cowardice, sending others off to die while he remained behind. Lyndan wasn't sure he could live with himself along that route. On the other hand, he could disregard the orders. He wasn't sure he'd live long enough to be court martialed along that route, with all the 'privileged' information he'd been fed.

Then there were questions of loyalty. Did T'Prau have agents in his crew to make it easier to maintain discipline? If this operation is truly as large as Lyndan believed, agents could have been picked years ago and groomed for missions such as this. Sleeper agents so deep they could pass any intensive psych profiling and probing. There were some newer crew members though, who could very well be plants without the time and effort of recruiting and training sleepers. Though they are the logical choice to suspect if there were agents...

Lyndan shook his head. There can be no going back once he started down the route of groundless suspicions and paranoid behavior. Besides, he himself could be a deep cover sleeper and never know it until his activation. There was no point in worrying about such events beyond his control. He had more pressing matters to attend to. First, he had to take care of his hand, the pain was distracting. Lyndan slowly stood, looked at the blank monitor one last time, and headed for sickbay.

* * *

Greene sat in the captain's chair doing her best to project an aura of confidence and control. Only Srenk did not seem fooled by her charade. But it appeared to be working, the bridge crew had gradually eased into the routine of being chased while running towards a target no one knew the location of. There was no banter, cheerful or otherwise, only the steady humming of the engines and occasional beep from the computer. Greene could feel her nerves straining past the breaking point, willing something, _anything_ to happen to relieve the monotony. Her wish was granted when the lift doors opened and Lyndan stepped onto the bridge. All eyes turned to follow him as he made his way to the captain's seat. Lyndan signaled Greene to remain seated as he approached, looking from Srenk and Greene several times before he spoke.

"I have received a communique from Admiral T'Prau, I would like to speak to Commander Greene and Lieutenant Srenk in my ready room in ten minutes to review our new orders."

Lyndan turned and made strode to his ready room without another word. Greene and Srenk exchanged a single, concerned look before returning to their duties.

* * *

_Captain's Ready Room_

Exactly ten minutes later, the door to the ready room chimed.

"Come."

Greene and Srenk entered silently, stopping just inside the door. They took seats at a gesture from Lyndan. After several moments of tense silence, Lyndan finally spoke.

"Well," Lyndan began. "Commander, how would you like a real taste of command?"

"Sir?!" Greene could not keep the surprise out of her voice.

"I've been tapped to sit on a courts martial when we arrive at our destination. It shouldn't last too long, but any delay in our mission is intolerable according to the Admiral. So, in my stead, you will command the _Hornet_ while I do paperwork. Congratulations, Commander, I have the utmost faith in you and your abilities. Please return my ship in one piece."

Greene sat there, speechless.

Srenk addressed Lyndan, "That's very nice for the Commander, sir. But why am I here?"

"Because," Lyndan replied. "I know you aren't a Lieutenant, '_Major_'. Plus, we've all been under a great deal of stress. I was hoping you could help the Commander and I shed some of that stress. A long time ago, I was on shore leave on, oh, Mars . While there, I found this exquisite Vulcan masseuse. Except, rather then physically massage the pain and stress away, she used a form of mind meld to mentally remove the stress. I was hoping you knew a similar technique to help Commander Greene deal with the news which she still has not recovered from, and for me to get used to the idea of sitting behind a desk for the rest of my days."

Srenk raised a curious eyebrow. "Of course, sir. It is important the commander and captain should have clear minds. If you don't mind, we can get started right away."

Lyndan looked at Greene, who nodded yes.

"All right, I order everyone in this room to relax." Lyndan laughed.

"First, let us move our chairs into a circle, it will be easier that way." Srenk moved his chair into the center of the ready room and waited as Greene and Lyndan followed his lead.

"Next, I must ask you two to hold hands. Humans are not naturally strong telepaths, and this will aid in forming the proper telepathic bond, reducing some of the strain on me."

Greene and Lyndan joined hands and Srenk placed a hand on each of their faces.

"May our minds join as one ... May our thoughts merge together..."

* * *

I know it has been a while since I've posted, so what do the few people who actually read this think?


End file.
